First book by Shirley Uphouse, dog show judge and trainer

My Dogs, My Friends written by Shirley Uphouse and published by Lulu Publishing, is now available. She has included in her book, 21 pictures of the many dogs she has lived with from the time she was a baby. Stories include several well-loved mixed breeds both owned and rescued by Shirley. She bred, trained and exhibited her dogs for forty-five years. For the last twenty years she has judged AKC dog shows from the east to the west coast and in Canada. She has judged more than thirty years for the Australian Shepherd Club of America.

Shirley shares some excerpts from the book which include this from the chapter about Molly, One Small Puppy…The air-cargo warehouse at the Atlanta airport was huge and noisy…iron-wheeled carts and the roar of a large machine was heard from somewhere out of sight. I hugged her once more holding her warm body close. With my face buried in her baby fur, I felt her soft tongue on my cheek.
Speaking to the attendant. “She’s just a baby” I said “can’t you put her someplace a little quieter until she goes out to the airplane?”

From Yogi, My Cinderella Dog…How could I let this gallant dog die for the lack of a good grooming? He had lived ten months in a box stable in a barn with no grooming. With mats six to eight inches deep, no one wanted to take him home.

From Tommy…The neighbor told Jim, at the shelter, that Tommy had been beaten with a hoe when he barked. He was the Keeshond that never knew a kind word or a gentle hand, that cringed leaving a wet spot should anyone walk within five feet from him. Tommy’s time at the shelter was up.

From the story when we wanted to check the herding instincts of our young Australian Shepherds…One glorious autumn afternoon we loaded the pups in the van and drove into the mountains in pursuit of the woolies…Suppose they showed no interest in the sheep? Suppose they ran from the flock? Suppose Jack sneered at these worthless show pets? There was no turning back.

Shirley has included several stories of dogs she and her husband rescued and have placed in good homes. Currently she lives with two Australian Shepherds. Books can be ordered from Shirley Uphouse, 316 Ridge Cliff Road, Marble NC 28905, shirl@dnet.net, 828-837-6007. $14.95 includes shipping.

Hendersonville Writers met with Ed Southern

At lunch, Ed and Glenda Beall met with Lana Hendershott, Susan Snowden, Nancy Purcell and Bob Greenwald to discuss writing in Henderson

County.

Ed Southern, Executive Director for NCWN, gave the Network a face for writers in Henderson, Transylvania, and Haywood Counties at a meeting at the Henderson County Library on June 16.

Everyone appreciated his answering the many questions members and non-members asked about NCWN and his vision for the future.

Some quotes from those attending are " This was a good meeting. Maybe we can have another, maybe quarterly."

It was an excellent way for local writers to meet each other and make plans to form groups, readings and other events in the area.

Nancy Purcell who has been a Netwest Rep in Transylvania country for a couple of years, was delighted to meet possible leaders for Netwest in Henderson County. Her hope is to hold a couple of big writing workshops each year in Brevard and in Hendersonville.

What do you folks in those towns think about that idea?

Just click on comments at the bottom of this post and let us know.

Photos by Barry Beall

Betty Cloer Wallace's Tuckaseegee Chronicles

After a failed uprising against England in 1745, Scots Highlander exiles
emigrate to America where they operate a trading post and packhorse enterprise among Cherokee Indians. As Mairy MacNeill comes of age, she learns that the Cherokee are not unlike Scottish clans both culturally and spiritually, that war between the Cherokee and English is inevitable, that friendship and loyalty can cross cultural boundaries, and that loving a man, either trader's son Joe Buck Cheatham or Cherokee warrior Otter, can be elusive.
Mairy's Cherokee friends Redwing and Standing Wolf find each other, but
realize that unscrupulous traders and settlers coming into their homeland bring conflict that will forever change their lives and the future of the Cherokee Nation.
Set in the heart of America's first frontier during the early years of the
French and Indian War, TUCKASEEGEE is carefully researched for historical and cultural accuracy.



Betty Cloer Wallace is Macon County Representative for NCWN West.



CHRONICLES - Amazon book page and excerpt (free download of first three chapters) may be accessed at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0011G9Y5E ....... Author's Amazon profile and blog may be accessed at http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3PTVWHUZKB8R3 ....... Author's e-mail: bettycloerwallace@runbox.com

Jack Prather's Crime Novel has been accepted

We received this item from Jack Prather of Henderson County, NC.

The Day of The Knights is an epic psychological crime novel of 82,000 words. Book 1 is set in the Northern Italian Alps where a physically savaged boy evolves into a religious fanatic homophobic serial killer who deludes himself into becoming "The Black Knight" with a mission to be "God's Avenger" (whew!), first in Italy and then in the Bronx. A savant with a photographic memory, he is able to seamlessly become an Epicopalian deacon in service to his hated priest brother.

Book 2 introduces a noble inner-city American who becomes a star athlete, then a policeman shot in the line of duty, then a volunteeer firefighter, and lastly an investigative journalist on the killer's trail. Books 1 and 2 delve deeply into the families of the anti-hero and hero to unveil the whys of their development.

In Book 3, the main characters converge in parallel events on 9/11 at Christ Church in the Chelsea Section of NYC, with the protagonist going on to display remarkable heroism at Ground Zero.

The book has been accepted by the publisher of my book, Speaking Up in Poetry & Prose which came out in 2007. It consists of 50 pieces on issues on societal, religious, political and life topics important to 21st-century Americans. It is available at the Carl Sandburg National Historic Site in Flat Rock where my poem, Sandburg Homage, is on display.
http://www.jackjosephprather.com/

828-697-9547

Workshop for Becoming a Published Writer

On Saturday, May 17, at the Tri-County Community College, in Murphy, NC, Shirley Uphouse held a one day workshop on steps to becoming a published writer. Twelve attentive and interactive writers attended. Much of what Shirley covered could be found by surfing the net; however she handed out information to make the search a little easier and to expand on that information. Attendees were introduced to the Writer’s Market and its broad variety of publications, presses, and places to submit their work.

“To become a published writer, first one needs be a good writer,” Shirley told the group. She urged the writers to proof-read their work several times and read their work aloud to find unwanted word repetition. She recommended that the students attend writing classes, as many as possible, and to read…a lot.

After lunch, the instructor stressed the importance of publication guidelines - reading and following them explicitly. Shirley discussed the proper form for query and cover letters and for manuscripts. It was noted that the internet is a treasure trove of markets for writers.

Shirley’s work has been published in Smoky Mountain Living, Main Street Rag, The Rambler, the Appalachian Heritage and other magazines and journals. An AKC dog show judge for 20 years, she has published articles in magazines of interest to dog show enthusiasts: Showsight, the Chronicle, and for the last four years, The Australian Shepherd Annual.

Shirley will hold another one day seminar at the Tri-County Community College on September 20, 9:00am – 4:00 pm with brown bag lunch break. $35.00 limited space. Call Continuing Education. 828-835-4313. The seminar: Nuts and Bolts of good writing to polish your work and catch an editor’s attention. Call Shirley Uphouse 828-837-6007 for more information.

The trials of Bodine include getting a bum rap
By Gary Carden

Several years ago, a merchant who operated a kind of novelty store in Bryson City offered to trade some of his unique merchandise for some of my storytelling tapes. Specifically, he offered me a multi-colored, stuffed German shepherd. I was charmed by the big dog, who sat in a corner staring benevolently at the world — he was life-size, chubby and had a quizzical expression that suggested that he had just seen something both puzzling and comical. We made the trade and I hauled my new pet (I had named him Bodine on sight) back to my car, where I finally managed (by turning him upside down) to cram him into the back seat.
Jack, my Jack Russell, who was asleep in the front seat, awoke to discover that the car had been invaded. Snarling and barking, he climbed into the back seat, and bit Bodine several times, tearing hunks of cotton stuffing from his hindquarters. I managed to haul Jack back to the front, but on the journey home he sat backwards, snarling and snapping at Bodine’s defenseless rear.
At home, I placed Bodine on my front porch where he has remained for the past three years. Jack remained suspicious for a while, but finally befriended “Bodie.”
From a distance, this fat shepherd appears to be a vigilant watchdog — a faithful servant devoted to protecting my humble abode. Visitors sometimes approach my front porch timidly, staring at the big mutt’s benign countenance a little nervously until they realize that “Bodie” is both harmless and lifeless. Eventually, Jack began sleeping between Bodie’s front legs, rising only to challenge the passing menace of cars, joggers, visitors and other dogs.
However, the years have not been kind to Bodie. The rains and snows of three winters have bleached his vivid coat: his black spots have become a kind of electric blue, his whites a dingy grey, and his browns are tinged with a pinkish yellow. Yet, he still stares doggedly (Forgive me, but I couldn’t resist that) out at Cherry Street. A few times, strong winds have swept him off the porch and left him under the nearby boxwood. I always retrieve him, brush down his matted coat, clean the spiders out of his ragged ears and return him to his post where he continues to regard Cherry Street with wry amusement.
Now, in view of Bodine’s character, you can imagine my surprise when I learned that he had been accused of murder and mayhem. According to recent reports, Bodine has been seen where he shouldn’t/couldn’t be. Eyewitnesses have given graphic accounts of a “killer dog” who resembles Bodie, and he is stalking the dark woods of Painter Knob ... a slathering beast with demonic eyes who preys on hapless victims: cats, chickens and other dogs.
According to one informed source that has seen the killer dog departing the scene of carnage, “It was a big German shepherd.” Several days later, this witness happened to drive down Cherry Street, and as she passed my house, she saw him. The killer! “There he sat on the porch of that old farm house — the very beast!” The eyewitness returned home and reported her discovery.
There was a general consensus that the concerned citizens needed to talk to the owner of this ravening beast. Me. Returning to Cherry Street, they drove slowly past. Yes, he was still there! They compared notes and discussed the best strategy.
Of course, someone finally mentioned that something wasn’t “quite right” about Bodie. One of the surveillance crew finally said, “Has anyone noticed that ... he never moves? He is always in the same spot and there is something ‘wrong’ with his face ...”
When I became aware of the details of this strange story, I decided that my neighbors’ suspicions were well-founded. I have been unwittingly harboring a killer.
Although some of Bodie’s accusers are beginning to have doubts, I can only say this: “Don’t let that innocent act fool you. I think you have got the killer, dead to rights.” Although the cars have stopped driving slowly by my house, I am eager to see justice done, but I’m not sure how to proceed. Should I take Bodine to the dog pound? Perhaps, we could do a lethal injection at one of the local vets? Whatever his victims decide, I would like to claim Bodine’s remains. I think it is only fitting that even though he is a convicted felon, I feel that his carcass can be rehabilitated. I would like to return him to his post on my porch. I would feel a lot safer knowing that he is watching the traffic out on Cherry Street.

Gary Carden is a storyteller, dramatist, playwright, writer and more who lives in Jackson County, NC.
Visit his blog: www.blogholler.blogspot.com

YOUR POETRY: LET'S HEAR IT

Nancy Simpson is teaching a special poetry writing class at John C. Campbell Folk School July 26 - August 1, 2008.

YOUR POETRY: LET'S HEAR IT.

The focus is how sound is made in free verse poetry. It will be especially helpful to you in the writing of narrative poems and mediative poems. Poetry must be pleasing to the ear, so no matter how free we believe Free Verse is, poetry cannot sound like prose. Learn specific sound related techniques.

How and where to publish will be discussed. A list of markets will be given.

Bring you poetry project and get feedback from the instrctor.

YOUR POETRY : LET'S HEAR IT will be held in the new writing studio at Orchard House and Harvest Room. The new computer lab makes it possible to complete more work than before. Each student has his/her own writing space. Sorry, the class is limited to eight students. Pre register now if you are interested, to be sure to reserve a place. The fee of $430.00 can be cut in half to $215.00 if you live in the folk school area and if you get your name on the list in time. John C. Campbell Folk School,
Brasstown, N.C. 1 800 FOLK-SCH. http://www.folkschool.org/

Thank you, Hendersonville Writers. It was fun meeting many of the Netwest members I've been conversing with by email. Thanks also to Nancy Purcell from Brevard, JC Walkup and John Malone from Haywood county, Gary Carden from Jackson County and Bob Greenwald from Henderson county who shared with our guests.
Today was a good day, not only for me and for NCWN and Netwest, but I know the writers who came, connected with other local writers will find their lives enriched in the future.
As writers we all need community. We need to talk with other writers, share with other writers and bounce ideas off each other. I see the writers in Henderson county coming together in future writing events. Netwest will be there to help make this possible.

WRITING FREE VERSE; SOME QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

WRITING FREE VERSE POETRY: Some Questions and Answers

Nancy Simpson, Instructor

When talking with free verse poets, I tread lightly to see if we are on the same page. Many free verse poets believe there is no form in free verse poetry and that there are no rules. I do not agree with that. I believe writers of free verse must follow the essential rules of poetry. Free verse poets have a great amount of freedom, but it is a misconception to think we can write with abandon of rules.

Yes, we must break with traditional verse. We must shun rhyme, but after that, in my opinion, free verse poets must decide carefully which guidelines of poetry they will practice.

Some of the most asked questions from my students.

1) QUESTION: If there are free verse rules, what is number one?

ANSWER: Economy of Words is the first rule of poetry. The second is Use of Diction, choice of words, choosing the best word in regard to correctness. Poets of old followed these essential rules. Free verse poets must follow these rules.

2) QUESTION: Do I have to write in sentences?

ANSWER: Yes. According to the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetics, poetry is written in sentences and lines. Poets of old followed this guideline. Free verse poets must do so. Why? Syntax of Sentence. A sentence has syntax, and it is syntax that gives your words meaning. No meaning, no understanding for your reader.


3) QUESTION: Do I have to punctuate?

ANSWER: No. This is your choice. Once in a while, in the literary magazines, I read poems that has no punctuation. However, it is as if the poem were punctuated and then the poet lifted out the punctuation marks. There is no rule, but caution would say, help the reader all you can. If there were a rule regarding punctuation, it would be: Do not lose your reader.

4) QUESTION: What is the rule for line breaks?

ANSWER: There is no rule. Line breaks are completely your responsibility and your choice. Some free verse poets work in unrhymed meter, some count syllables, some spoon feed the reader one thought on one line and the next bite on the next line. There are no rules, but there are a few guidelines.
A.) End the line with a strong word, not a weak word such as a, and, or the.

B.) Be aware of your one word lines. That one word you want to use will draw attention to itself. It had better be great, for it will provoke questions, and it will slow your reader.

C.) If your line is too wide for a narrow page, it will wrap, and you will lose what ever it was you were trying to accomplish. Editors shun the wide line that wants to wrap.

D.) If there were one rule to line breaks, it would be, work your lines.

5) QUESTION: What if I have a sentence that ends in the middle of the next line? What is the rule?

ANSWER: There is no rule against ending a sentence in the middle of a line. What you have is a caesura, a pause, and you have a golden opportunity. Caesura in a line can be a dreadful mistake, or it can be one of the most brilliant, most sophisticated moves in your free verse poetry. The guideline would be, make that line with the caesura stand alone as a thought. It is comparable to giving your reader a spoonful of something delicious that was not on the menu. You have the first sentence and the second sentence, and in-between you have a line with a period somewhere in it. Words on each side of the period should add up to something in itself. Guard against caesura lines that make no sense.

Post any questions or comments to www.netwestwriters.blogspot.com

Nancy Simpson is the author of two collections of poetry.
She is Resident Writer at John C. Campbell Folk School.

Assimilation
By Jim Cox

From the west side of crooked creek
You can see long stretches of meadowland
Past the narrow waterway, abruptly ending
At the steep ascent of hills covered in white pine

Along the banks mole tunnels make the soft
Soil lumpy, turtles rest beneath the tangled
Vines and foliage of dozens of plant species,
Some so rare they make you laugh

Early mornings when I walk the gravel road
Cut in for the campground near the creek
A great blue heron rises from her nest
Flying to the topmost branches of a hickory

She watches me go by and then returns
To the thicket grown dense on a shallow bend
Such is the joy of the morning: What grave
Trials can alter the peace of this land?

On the east side of the creek the chainsaws
Topple trees; the big machines’ backward beeps
Signal the change – fairways eight and nine
Will line that side right up to water’s edge

The new golf course by the Eastern Band of Cherokees
Will bring the fat rich tourists to the mountains
Empty their pockets as empty as their eyes
A right recompense given the tribe’s history

Now the Indians can truly say, “I know the cold
Hand that hides the anguish in your heart;
Because of that my eyes have lost their glimmer,
Their stars dying, my vision grows dimmer.

I have been these four hundred years and more
Taking in the white man’s way, I know the tongue,
The fear and arrogance that has gone beyond
The awareness of respect or redemption.”

Still, the moles are driven from their homes,
Two wounded ones that crawled out to cross
To safety lie dead at my feet, the turtle’s cracked back
Suffers the sun, the great blue heron gone.

Brenda Kay Ledford's latest poetry chapbook, SACRED FIRE, will be printed by Finishing Line Press in September. You may go to http://www.finishinglinepress.com/, click on "New Releases" to pre-order the book.

Brenda Kay's first two chapbooks won awards from the Paul Green Foundation.

Reading at JCCFS is FOURTH Thursday this month

POETS AND WRITERS READING POEMS AND STORIES AT JOHN C. CAMPBELL FOLK SCHOOL, BRASSTOWN, NORTH CAROLINA
Glenda Barrett of Hiawassee, Georgia and Robert Kimsey of Mc Caysville, Georgia will be reading original works in the Keith House, June 26 at 7:00 P.M. The event is sponsored by Netwest and the community is invited for an hour of original poetry and prose.
Glenda Barrett is not only an artist of brush and paint, but a literary artist

as well. Glenda sold the first essay she ever submitted, and her work has appeared in Woman's World, rural Heritage, Kaleidoscope, Farm and Ranch Living, Muscadine Lines and numerous other magazines and journals.

Her chapbook “When the Sap Rises," published by Finishing Line Press became available this past April. Glenda is a “home grown girl,” born and raised in Hiawassee. Her writings are humorous, heartfelt, nostalgic and pure magic.

Robert Kimsey’s writing provokes deep feelings and is often colored by the past of Eastern Kentucky where he was born. He is the winner of the Lee Pennington Award, the R. J. Lutske Memorial Award and placed second in 2005 in the President’s Prize of the Kentucky State Poetry Society’s contest. He is author of chapbooks, “Paths From the Shawnee Spring” and a limited edition “Readings”. Robert spends much of his time volunteering and teaching writing to children in the Fannin County schools. The following was published in Southern Ocean Review.

FAMILY PICTURES
I see them standing side by side,

the walls separating them invisible

yet as strong as an oak door.

Not touching and never a kiss or

smile between them, only

outward to the camera -to the world.
Those who would speak have long

since passed.

There are no concrete stories,

only ghosts that linger on the paper

Pictures do not tell it all,

just smiles and pressed suits.

None of hands soiled with earth

or blood of Sunday chickens.

None of sideways glances,

full of mistrust and hurt.

Now only time knows.

The paper holds the shadows

until the light burns them away.

This evening will be a delight for anyone who enjoys poetry and good writing. Both Netwest members are also excellent readers who will hold your interest so tightly you will be surprised and sorry when the hour has ended. Take their books home with you and you will be able to continue to enjoy their words long after this night is over.

Comments on Writers Talking All Day About Writing

"Great workshop. Fun, and I learned some good tips. Carol (Crawford)puts on a good workshop." Shirley Uphouse, former Program Coordinator for Netwest

"A lot of my confusion over how to go about putting a chapbook together was cleared up in our group, and I did my best to take copious notes before and after lunch. All of us really got a lot out of it, and got to know each other better. It's been a long time since I've written any new poetry, but I'm inspired to try to find a time and place that's conducive to writing". Carole Thompson

"Great Workshop, Glenda! I enjoyed every minute of it (Nancy is great!) and I met some interesting new writers! What a wonderful event! Hey, we don’t have to import good teachers." Janice Moore

I met wonderful people who write fabulous poetry. Nancy Simpson is passionate about helping poets get published, and she willingly shares her wisdom. I left the workshop inspired, with my head full of ideas for improving my poems and writing new ones!" Karen Holmes from Atlanta

This workshop was wonderful. Carol Crawford presented a well-balanced and structured class. The writing exercises were not only fun but an excellent learning tool. At the breaks, we commented on the excitement of learning and being offer something new at each event. The day flew by. The greatest benefit is the stimulation you feel at the end of the class. All you want to do is get home and start writing. Truly it was a wonderful day. My only regret was that I had to select one class with the offer of two great teachers. Thats life. Carol McAfee, winner in the Cherokee County Silver Arts competition, 2008
----- Original Message -----

Netwest member, Robert Greenwald has new book

Robert Greenwald''s book, Conflict Without Chaos...A Look Back at Conflict Intervention Initiatives During the Nation's Early Civil Rights Era, was released in April, 2008. See information below. Congratulations, Robert.

Publisher: Hampton Press, Cresskill, NJISBN Paperbound: 978-1-57273-765-5; Price: $27.95ISBN Hardbound: 978=1=57273- 764-8; Price: $67.50
Genres: Nonfiction (conflict resolution, civil rights, historical, memoir)

Mediation, alternative dispute resolution, and civil rights protest have become familiar terms in the lexicon of contemporary human behavior.
This book carries the reader back to some of the early applications of those processes. It is a first-hand account of the turbulent late nineteen sixties, and through the seventies, when minority dissent threatened to widen the racial divide, rendering many communities subject to violent protest and instability. It was a time when new national legislation to bring about more equal sharing of opportunity led to substantial pressures on the legal system. The federal courts were overburdened with petitions for redress of grievances claiming denial of citizen rights guarantees. They were open to considering ways to relieve their dockets of unprecedented congestion.

The idea of ordering "voluntary" mediation as an alternative to litigation began to assert its appeal to the judiciary. The process became particularly prevalent in connection with law suits filed to overcome school desegregation, alleged abusive police practices, complaints of inhumane or unconstitutional conditions of incarceration by prison inmates, and a variety of other issues being tested under the Civil Rights Act of 1964. No longer was mediation largely limited to the settlement of labor-management disputes. A new professional genus was born--the neutral third-party intervenor trained to bring community and institutional conflict parties to the negotiation table.


The author spent a total of 22 years in federal service, much of it as regional mediator with the Community Relations Service, an arm of the U.S. Department of Justice. Prior experience included three years of military service during World War II, some dozen earlier career years in chamber of commerce management positions in Texas and Oklahoma, and later as a senior administrator for a social service agency in Dallas, Texas.

Born in Jamaica, New York, he is a graduate of the George Washington University with a degree in government.For further information, readers are invited to visit the author's web site: http://www.Conflictwithoutchaos.com Expedited purchase from the publisher can be made by calling toll-free at 800-894-8955. Other availability, sometimes limited, from www.Amazon.com by special order from your favorite local bookseller..

Stephen King Quote

We had a terrific workshop in Blairsville, GA today with some very talented people. Thanks to Carol Crawford and Nancy Simpson for their instruction and to Carole Thompson and all those who helped with cleanup.

I think Stephen King says it best, Writers.

"Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work."
Stephen King

Jayne Jaudon Ferrer, S.C. member

Those of you close to Greenville, SC, are invited to come meet Jayne Jaudon Ferrer on Saturday, June 21st, at 8 PM, at Greenville's newest bookstore, As the Page Turns, a longtime dream-come-true for Lisa Nichols. Kay Day will be there, along with several other terrific Southern female poets. It will be a "midsummer night's dream," for sure!

Check our archives for an early post by Jayne with her view of poets and poetry today.

Her Website: www.jaynejaudonferrer.com

Jayne's Blog: http://commagoddess.blogspot.com

Dana Wildsmith, poet

Dana Wildsmith is my new favorite poet. She grew up in the same hot, humid area of south Georgia where I lived. I like the following poem, Peopleing, which Dana gave me permisssion to post on our blog.

Peopling

Our border collie Max, I say, would be a bow-tie guy,
a grey slacks with cuffs kind of guy,
his solid-color long-sleeved shirts always lightly starched.
For casual, he’d keep pressed khakis on wooden hangers
and white golf shirts with left-sleeve monogram.

Fred the red hound would live in faded 501’s
and Carhartts, Dixie Outfitter shirts, and ball caps
promo-ing beer and football and backhoes.

We’re sure Max is a Whiskey-Palian,
20-year deacon, high church, early Mass.
Fred’s kin have been Baptists, by God,
since time began on Sunday, October 23rd, 4004 B.C.

Sndays after church, Fred eats Mama’s fried chicken
and watches the game. Max does the buffet at the Club,
drives his white Volvo home and now politely corrects us,
“You have me all wrong, you know.”
But he won’t say how.

Fred’s F-150’s spinning gravel out front
and he yells he’ll catch us later--
gotta get that squirrel before it makes it to a tree.

So we sit on the porch with Molly,
the damaged black Lab. She was a preacher’s kid,
never heard a cuss word till high school,
believed in the goodness of man
until one man beat that guilelessness out of her.
Now Molly slips around the edges of her days
not looking at the world so the world won’t exist.

But even Molly’s pleased when Barney, the old beagle,
comes bowlegging over to find out what’s new with us.
He’s got time to palaver, now he’s retired from the mill.
He hitches his overalls at the knees
and eases to a rocker, informing us that
whoo, lordy—it’s going to be a hot one today.

Later this evening he’ll have his coffee
at Waffle House with Roscoe and Willie,
and he’ll tell the other dogs how he talked to me earlier
and don’t they think I’d be an Irish Setter?
Not a prissy bred-for-show, mind you,
but one of those country Setters, always up for a walk….

A PC must be strong, in more ways than one.

The job description for Program Coordinator should not include heavy lifting. Today Carole and Norm Thompson, my husband Barry(on right) and I set up the venue for our workshop tomorrow. By that, I mean we dragged and lifted heavy eight foot tables and unloaded chairs from a trailer. I won't say how old we four are, but I can tell you that an hour of this work wore us out.

I made the decision tonight that if this job requires that kind of physical labor in the future, I will definitely have to resign! I also made the decision not to depend on my caring helpful husband to always be there for Netwest. Some have declared him an honorary member of NCWN West. Barry, who is a good photographer, takes many photos of our members and at our events. He has gone far beyond his duties as a supportive husband to make sure my Netwest obligations are met. I can't thank him enough.

So, I will be calling on more of our members for help in the future. Hopefully some strong members who can lift and drag.

Thanks so much to Carole and Norm for all their help with Writers Talking All Day About Writing. Carole, our newest Netwest Rep got her feet wet in a hurry. We look forward to a delightful day in Blairsville tomorrow.

New Georgia Rep for Netwest

My name is Carole Thompson. I am pleased to be a member of the North Carolina Writers Network. My husband, Norm, and I moved to Blairsville, GA 18 years ago. Prior to that, we lived on St. Simons Island for 10 years, moving there after he retired as a career pilot in the US Air Force.
Network West Coordinator, Glenda Beall, asked me about becoming one of her GA Representatives. Glenda devotes so much of her own time working hard promoting programs and literary opportunities for writers in our area. I have accepted this opportunity to be of some assistance to her and her other representatives, as we work toward the goals laid down for this Network West chapter.

. Glenda thought I might tell you something about myself. If you were to ask me, “Who are you?” my first answer would have to be:”I am a wife, a mother of four children, a grandmother of five and great-grandmother of two.” Norm and I are celebrating our 56th anniversary this month. We wanted to do something special, so we’re visiting friends in England and then we’re all taking that train that zips under the English Channel and pops up somewhere near Paris! This is going to be a great adventure. I’m happy pursuing many interests right around my home, too. Most of my adult life I have worked in oil painting, particularly portraits. I also love to read, quilt and do crossword puzzles. Norm and I sing in the Mountain Community Chorus, and in our own church choir.

About 8 years ago, a friend invited me to take a writing class with her at Tri-County College in Murphy, N.C. I became a student in one of Nancy Simpson’s poetry classes. She totally liberated me by explaining the concept of free verse. I hung on her every word. In her next class, she pulled stories out of me like a painless dentist. The next year one of my poems was published in an anthology. After that, I submitted a short Christmas story to a well known Catholic magazine, and nearly had a heart attack when they bought it. Nancy Simpson was the first one I called. She continues to be my mentor and friend. Network West has so many wonderful, talented members!

First Place Winner In Netwest Contest

The Three-Legged Horse
by Jerry Hobbs

“Missus McGorkal, that new boy is a rotten liar. He’s been telling everybody his grandfather gave him a three-legged horse.”
“Now Sally Ruth, you know it isn’t nice to call anyone a liar.”
“But he is, Missus McGorkal. He told Jimmy Beesinger out by the swings yesterday, and I heard him. I asked my daddy, and he says Mr. Lampsayer is a rancher and wouldn’t keep a horse around if it had only three legs.”
After cleaning the chalkboard, Meldeen began to copy math problems from a sheet of paper. She said, “What your father told you is true, Sally Ruth. Still, it isn’t right to call anyone names, even if they do sometimes tell stories. Remember when I explained to the class how Billy Ray’s parents were killed over in Oregon? He’s just trying too hard to make new friends since moving here to his grandparents’ ranch.”
The little girl stamped her pink sneaker on the floor. “I don’t care. Besides he said it again today, and that makes him a…”
Meldeen turned from the chalkboard. “Listen, I don’t want to tell you again. Maybe you should go back outside before recess ends.”
About that time the school bell interrupted their conversation.
“Never mind. You take your seat now and let me deal with Billy Ray’s…well, let’s just call it his overactive imagination.”
“Yes, Missus McGorkal, if you say so.”

As she drove out the following Saturday morning to the Lampsayers’ ranch where Billy Ray lived, Meldeen McGorkal wondered how anyone could help but fall in love with the beauty of Montana on a day like this. The never-ending blue sky stretched like a blank canvas as far as she could see. Turning off the main road, she passed through a wide gate and couldn’t help but notice how much time and effort was spent to keep the Double Bar-L ranch in good condition, especially considering the advanced age of the owners. She dreaded her mission here, but felt Billy Ray’s grandparents needed to know that he was getting off to a bad start with his new classmates, telling tall tales.
A cheerful, gray-haired woman answered the door. “Look here who came calling, Arnold. It’s Billy Ray’s teacher. What brings you all the way out from town on a Saturday, Missus McGorkal?” The elderly lady held open the door and invited Meldeen inside.
“Come in – come in. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Lampsayer, Mr. Lampsayer. Thanks, but I’ve already had breakfast.” Meldeen paused and took a deep breath. “I’ve come to discuss your grandson, and please, call me Meldeen.”
“All right, Meldeen. You’re here about Billy Ray? Such a sweet boy. We just love him to pieces. He came to live with us after Tilly and Jimbo…after they…they…” Her smiling face crumpled as she remembered the accident. She ran from the room, sobbing.
Arnold apologized, “I’m sorry, ma’am. My wife still hasn’t gotten over the tragic way our daughter and her husband died.” He took a red bandana from his pocket and wiped his eyes, then blew his nose. After clearing his throat a couple of times, he said, “What say we take a walk outside while Connie gets herself back together. I’m not much for talking, but I can show you around the place while we wait for her to rejoin us.”
The two of them strolled through the yard in relative silence, broken now and then by his brief, though glowing, explanations about the beautiful flowers and shrubs. He was quick to point out that their very existence and excellent condition were due entirely to the efforts of his wife.
They were nearing the barn when she suddenly noticed an old sawhorse leaning against a fence post. Her eyes widened as she realized it was missing a leg. It seemed strangely out of place when everything else was so neat and orderly. She started to go over for a closer look when Connie came out and joined them, wiping her eyes and apologizing for her behavior.
“Please, there’s no need to explain, Mrs. Lampsayer. Even though I’ve never married, and I’ve never lost a child, I do know what it feels like to experience the tragic death of a loved one.”
“Well now, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to watch me snivel. You mentioned earlier that you wanted to discuss Billy Ray? He’s such a bright boy, and I’m sure he’s had plenty of time to catch up with the other students in your class by now.”
“Yes he has, but that’s not the problem.”
“Problem?” asked the couple at the same time.
“Look, this is very difficult, but one of his classmates came to me yesterday with some disturbing news. It seems your grandson might be trying too hard to win acceptance and make new friends.”
Arnold spoke up. “No offense intended ma’am, but that’s just the boy’s nature. Why, our little Billy Ray’s got a heart big as all of Montana and twice as tall.”
“That’s right, Arnold. Surely that can’t be the problem she’s talking about. Meldeen, exactly what did he…?”
“Excuse me,” the teacher said, “but do I hear someone singing in the barn? Isn’t that Billy Ray?” When the older couple smiled and nodded, Meldeen murmured, “How lovely.”
Connie said, “Isn’t it though? The boy sings like an angel, that’s for sure. We decided he gets…got that talent from his father.” She forced a laugh. “Our side of the family doesn’t have enough musical ability to stick in a prairie dog’s eye, I’m afraid.”
“But who’s he singing to? Is someone with him?”
“Just Spider,” Arnold said. “He goes out to the barn every day and sings to her – morning and evening on school days and more often on weekends. He’s done that ever since he came here. It seems to make him feel better.”
“Spider?” Meldeen shivered. “He sings to a spider?”
Connie laughed again, “Oh my, no – Spider’s a mare. Used to belong to Tilly before she got married and moved to Oregon. Sixteen years old now and blind as a bat. We should have put her down years ago but simply never had the heart.”
“Good thing, too,” added Arnold. Billy Ray wouldn’t be alive today if not for her.”
“Really? Gracious, what happened?”
“It was one morning, shortly after his parents were…after he came to live with us. The boy had gone into the barn to sing, just like he always did, but that day Spider was acting strangely. Billy Ray said afterwards it was probably the shadows in her stall that kept him from seeing it.”
“From seeing what?”
“The rattlesnake. Biggest diamondback I’ve ever seen. Anyway, the closer Billy Ray got to the stall, the more old Spider danced around. She was going strictly by sound, of course, since she couldn’t see. Stomped that snake plumb dead, she did.”
“Oh my. How lucky for Billy Ray.”
Connie spoke up, “But not so lucky for Spider, I’m afraid. Poor thing almost died. As it turned out, she was sick for weeks.”
“I’ll say,” Arnold added. “Doc Vitters said it bit her four times. The only thing that saved that horse was a freak blood clot from poor circulation. It helped keep the venom isolated.”
“She certainly sounds like a brave horse.”
“The bravest I’ve ever known, and you can take that to the bank. Why, we wouldn’t trade a dozen thoroughbreds for the old girl now. Connie and I still believe the only thing that keeps her alive is how much she looks forward to Billy Ray’s singing every day. That and the care he gives her, what with feeding, combing, cleaning out her stall and the like. We think it’s good for the boy to have that responsibility, too.”
“Yes, and it must be wonderful for him to have his very own horse to ride.”
Connie glanced at her husband, then back at Meldeen. “Ride? Oh, I’m afraid not. The poor thing is confined to that sling contraption that Doc Vitters rigged up after he had to amputate her leg. Now, what were you saying about our grandson’s problem at school, my dear?”

Jerry Hobbs lives in Murphy NC and is Cherokee County Representative for Netwest. His books can be ordered from www.lulu.com . Search under his name.